


Roses For My Angel

by Castiel_For_King



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Established Relationship, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 22:23:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3357455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_For_King/pseuds/Castiel_For_King
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean freaks out a little in front of the roses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roses For My Angel

Dean felt a little bit like he might vomit.  

 _Fucking_  Valentine’s Day.  He nervously wiped his palms over his denim clad thighs, hoping that _this time_ , they wouldn’t become slippery with sweat again.

Never before in his life had he needed to be concerned about this holiday and what it meant to the rest of society.  For once he wasn’t in some seedy bar on either end of a hunt, looking for someone to just…forget things with.  This year he had someone that mattered in ways Dean never thought someone  _could_  matter to him.

Castiel was special, and not just because he was a celestial being and a different species but because he was Cas.  

 _Cas_.

Dean felt the corners of his mouth pull up when he thought about the angel –  _his_  angel – and how he was probably back at the bunker right now, pouring over some dusty old book in the library or arguing with Sam about the layers of meaning under yet another obscure translation of some ancient text.  But whatever he was doing, there would likely be a large cup of coffee not too far away.  Since the angel had unofficially officially moved into the bunker with the brothers after deciding he was done with heaven and it’s bullshit, he’d gotten a taste for the popular beverage.

It had gotten to the point that one day Sam had came back from a grocery run and pulled a giant coffee house style mug out of a bag and promptly shoved it into Cas’ hands with a big stupid grin on his face.  

He might have worried – for like a second – that his brother had had feelings for the angel – _his_  angel – but had quickly realized that Sam just liked having someone to spoil.  

His brother was always buying stupid little trinkets for Cas.  During a hunt he’d come out of the gas station they’d stopped at and cried, “Look what I found!”  before chucking a tiny stuffed bee toy at the confused angel.  Cas had turned it over in his hands with a gentle smile and now it was sitting on the dresser in his room down the hall from Dean’s.

He was always coming home with expensive and exotic fruits and huge jars of locally cultivated honey and different kinds of herbal teas and the angel loved it all.  Just last week Dean had woken up and shuffled into the round table room to find Castiel sitting in the center of the large table, legs folded under him with a book open on the table, a half empty jar of honey in his hand and a spoon in his mouth.

“Are you eating honey with a spoon?”  He thinks he remembers asking the angel groggily.

Cas had looked up at him and smiled.  “Yes.”

Living with an angel was definitely interesting.

Dean raked his eyes over the four gazillion different flowers in front of him, quickly becoming overwhelmed by all the choices.  There were red ones and white ones and yellow ones but they were just flowers…and this was  _Cas_.  The angel probably could name every single species of flower on the planet - somehow it just didn’t seem like enough.

“Can I help you?” A girl in an apron asked politely.

Dean turned to her, “ _Yes_ , please.”

“Valentine flowers?” The girl – Erica according to the name tag – guessed with a knowing smile.

Dean felt himself flush.  “Er…yeah, but the thing is I’ve never really – I mean this is the first time I’ve ever -”  He abruptly cut off; the vomit was coming again.

Luckily, she seemed to understand what he was trying to say.  “Don’t worry.  I get it. What about roses?”

He glanced over at them.  “It’s just – he’s just…”

“Really special?”  

“And super smart, like he knows  _everything_ , and he’s been around for a  _long_  – er, I mean he’s been through a lot of stuff and -”

“And flowers just don’t seem like enough.”  The girl finished, nodding sagely.

“Exactly!”  He exhaled sharply, relieved that she understood without him having to say it out loud.

“You told him you loved him?”  She blatantly asked, staring up at him with sharp brown eyes.

“No!”  He blanched.

She was staring at him, her eyes narrowed like he was some kind of puzzle she was trying to solve.  “Ok, so you want something that shows him you love him and appreciate him but also something that caters to the fact that he’s a genius and has seen it all but at the same time doesn’t compromise you’re very obvious fear of saying anything sentimental or expressing emotion.”  She hummed, tapping her chin with her index finger thoughtfully.  “Yeah, that gift doesn’t exist.”  She concluded.

Dean gaped at her, fishing for words in his brain to defend himself but coming up empty handed.  “Just…I’ll take some roses, then.” he mumbled, embarrassed and unwilling to admit she’d hit the nail on the head with her observations.

When he was finally back in the safety of his car, Dean took a minute to breathe deeply, mentally giving himself a slap.  What was he even so worried about? So what if it was February 14th?  It was just like any other day and it was still  _Cas_ , his angel.  Cas, who loved him for who he was.  Cas, who had left his home to come live with him. Cas, who’d saved his life more times than he could count.

With every mantra Dean felt his heart rate slowing.  He glanced over at the two dozen roses sitting in the passenger seat and grinned.

He totally had this.

* * *

 

When he got back to the bunker, it was quiet and Sam was sitting at the giant map table by himself, surrounded by books, but Dean spotted Cas’ giant yellow coffee mug in the sea of paper immediately.

“Where’s Cas?”  He asked, descending the stairs.

“Kitchen, I think…are those Whitecastle burgers?”  Sam asked, perking up in his seat.

Dean set the bag on the very edge of the table farthest from his brother’s hungry look. “Yes.  And they’re  _not_  for you.”

“Roses?!”  Sam suddenly screeched; a huge grin split his face and he looked up at Dean with so much ammunition glinting in his eyes that Dean actually took a step back.

“Not a word, Sam!” He growled.

It was with a visible effort that Sam kept his mouth shut, baring his teeth in a grin like a snarling dog before something like a high pitched whine escaped his mouth like air seeping from an overfull balloon.  

Dean stared at his brother in confusion and no small amount of alarm. “Ok, I don’t know what that sound means but keep your damn mouth shut, capisce?”

“Totally!” Sam’s voice sounded muffled, due to the fact that his hands were balled into fists in front of his mouth.

He rolled his eyes but grabbed the bag of burgers and fled the room, holding the roses to his chest like a thorny shield from his brother’s gigantic, nauseating heart eyes.  

Cas  _was_  in the kitchen.  The angel was standing three feet from the stove with his arms crossed and one of his most intense stares set firmly on his handsome face.  He looked like he meant to make the appliance burst into flame with his mind alone - which he was perfectly capable of doing, so it must be something else, Dean figured.

“Cas?”

The angel startled badly, which was surprising because it was almost impossible to sneak up on the guy, and Dean cracked a grin, holding the flowers and the bag of hamburgers behind his back.

“What are you doing?”  He asked.

Castiel scowled at him, a smudge of flower visible along his jawline.  The angel was wearing an old ACDC tshirt that he had likely found while rummaging through Dean’s closet and a pair of jeans – also Dean’s – that were so old and worn that Dean could see bits of tanned skin through several holes in the knees and thighs.  There were smudges of flour on the t-shirt and his exposed arms as well.

“What are you making?”  Dean asked, something warm and sweet reaching his nose.

“Chocolate chip cookies.”  The angel replied gravely, turning his attention back to the stove.  “This is the third batch.  So far my efforts have proved futile.”

Dean bit his lip to keep from laughing.  Hearing Cas talk about mundane things as if they were war plans was something that would always make him laugh.

“Well, third time’s a charm.”  He said encouragingly.

Cas’ scowl deepened.

Dean set the bag on the table and came up to stand behind his angel, close enough so that he could press his chest to Cas’ back and reach his arm around in front of the man to present the bouquet of roses.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”  He said softly, pressing his lips to the side of the angel’s neck in a gentle kiss.

Castiel’s arms slowly unfolded and he reached up to touch one of the roses as if he’d never seen flowers before.

“I also got like twenty Whitecastle burgers ‘cause I know you -”

He was abruptly cut off when Castiel turned in the circle of his arms and wrapped his arms around his neck, tilting his face up to press his lips to the hunter’s.

The kiss took Dean by surprise.  Castiel rarely initiated physical contact – not that he didn’t enjoy it when Dean lead the charge – the hunter just thought that sometimes the angel forgot that touching was even a thing until he was reminded of it.  

He tightened his arms around his angel, pressing him close, the petals of the roses tickling the side of his face over Cas’ shoulder.  When he ran his tongue along the seam of Cas’ lips, they opened eagerly and he pushed inside the angel’s mouth, tasting - not surprisingly - bitter sweet coffee.  He pushed his free hand up underneath Cas’ t-shirt, feeling his way over soft skin and firm muscle.

Cas broke the kiss but their lips were still touching when he said in a breathy whisper.  “I love you.”

Dean froze, the angel’s words banging around inside his skull like a pin ball, lighting up every dark corner and he pulled farther away so that he could see Castiel’s face.  The angel was staring up at him with a patient gentle smile, as if he knew the hunter needed time to process what he’d just said.

“I – I love you too.”  He blurted after a few seconds.  

Cas grinned wide enough to show his straight white teeth.  “I know.”

The oven dinged and Cas gave him a chaste peck on the lips before turning and grabbing the oven mitt on the counter.

“Sam tried to explain the concept of St. Valentine’s Day,”  Cas said as he pulled the tray of cookies from the oven.  Dean listened while he busied himself filling a tall glass with water to put the roses in. “And, of course, I was not aware that among humans it was a celebration of love, which I think is much nicer than what Saint Valentine  _actually_  did on this anniversary.”

The angel turned back to him and Dean was surprised to see that he looked nervous, fiddling with the oven mitt in his hands.

“Cas?” He asked, abandoning the roses on the counter to come and stand in front of the angel.

“I know I’m not very good at this.”  Cas said all of a sudden, glancing down at his hands.  “I – I don’t get social cues or understand pop culture references and I fail at the simplest of human tasks and -”

“Cas, stop.”  Dean said, placing a hand on either side of the angel’s face and tilting his head up so he could see his blue eyes.  “You’re perfect, ok?”  He grinned.  “I like you just the way you are.” He was delighted to see the angel’s cheeks turn red.

“Ok.” The angel mumbled, ducking his head and then looking back up with a blinding smile.

He pressed his lips to the angel’s forehead, feeling lighter than he had in his life.  “Ok.”

* * *

 

I don't know what I'm doing...I don't know if I like how this turned out...blegh.  Oh well, happy V-Day...I have to go to work now...


End file.
